


What's in a Name?

by Madam_Fandom



Series: Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Deductions, Fighting, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gay Bar, Injured Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Protective John, alternative meetings, brief Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Fandom/pseuds/Madam_Fandom
Summary: John just wanted a drink after a long day at work, the last thing he wanted or needed was to break up a fight between a group of drunk men.For @hiatustory on Tumblr Submission of the month: Alternate Meetings





	

John was sitting at the bar when the commotion started. Cursing under his breath he took a deep sip of his scotch. He couldn’t believe it, a bloody fight, in here? The whole reason he enjoyed coming to the gay bars was because there was hardly ever any fights. Turning around to see what the fuss was about he saw two men, they had some poor bloke cornered. John couldn’t see the man but he could hear him, he was clearly trashed, but to make matters worst, the two bullies had no clue they were even in a gay bar. They were accusing the man of checking them out. They were yelling all sorts of derogatory and inflammatory comments, and even in his drunken state, the solo man annihilated them. He had quite the vocabulary and he used it expertly, verbally walking circles around them, insulting them in ways they couldn’t understand.

A moment later, John witnessed one of the bullies take a swing at the guy. He jumped up from his seat and making his way over to the group, he imagined the guy would need help, there was two of them after all and only one of him. Surprisingly enough though as John made his way over he watched the man dodged all attempts of being hit. He even landed a solid punch against the bigger of the two men, and it was then that John got a good look at the drunk man. He was beautiful; tall, dark riotous curls, and bright blue eyes set in a flushed face, red from either from exertion or drink, either way, John didn’t care. He stopped in his steps, momentarily stunned. But when the smaller man grabbed the drunkard by the collar of his coat, John jumped into action, rushing over and pulling the man off.

By now the big man was back on his feet and was swinging at John. He ducked, sending two well-placed punches to the man’s solar plexus, the man went down hard. John turned to the smaller of the two bullies, intending to handle him next, but what he sees is Mr. Drunken Beauty himself has the bully in a headlock. John stands and admires the man openly, the man’s curls were going every which way as he fought to restrain the man. John thought he maybe had dark brown hair but he couldn’t really tell on account of how crappy the lighting was in the bar. 

The drunk man let the bully go and made the mistake of turning his back on him thinking he was properly cowed, he wasn’t. John watched in horror as bully number two grabbed Mr. Beauty Queen by the arm, swung him around and threw a punch. The man dodged at the last second and the punch skims his face. John was grateful; if the man had made a direct contact this beautiful specimen in front of him would have had a broken nose at the very least. John rushed and grabbed the bully before he has a chance to go after the other man again. Taking him by the wrist John twisted the man’s arm up at an awkward angle and hissed in his ear, “Get your friend and get out before the cops are called. And just for the record, you’re in a gay bar you git.” He shoves the man forcibly and watches as he helps his friend to his feet and they both hurriedly walk out.

 

John turns to see if the drunk man needs any help but sees he is surrounded by plenty of would-be suitors. Shrugging it off John walks back over to the bar and drops some bills next to his unfinished drink and walks out.

Outside, after walking a couple of feet from the bar's entrance someone bumps into him roughly. John reaches out a hand to steady them and realizes it’s the man from inside.

 

“I must apologize for my clumsiness and also I wanted to say thank you for coming to my aid. All those other idiots simply stood around and watched.”

“No problem. Are you all right?” Without thinking, John reached up running his thumb lightly over a small bump where a bruise was forming on the man’s cheek. He had such high cheek bones.

Sherlock found he forgot how to speak as the man fingered his blossoming bruise. He stared down at the man. He wasn’t built or classically handsome, but there was something about this man that appealed to Sherlock. He wanted to get to know him better, and possibly thank him _properly_. Sherlock mentally slapped himself for thinking that. 

He asked instead, “Walk with me?” He watched the man discreetly glance at his watch and mentally debate. Taking the option out of the man’s hands before he could decline, Sherlock hooked his hand around the man’s bicep and started walking, the man had no choice, either start walking or make a scene.

 

“I’m sorry that my- confrontation ran you off from the bar.” Sherlock offered.

The man chuckled and Sherlock found he liked the sound very much and would love to hear it again.

“No worries I have to work in the morning anyways. You should really get that looked at.”

Sherlock reached and touched the spot on his face and flinched, it was tender. “I’m okay, but thank you.”

 

They walked for a long time, making small talk about the sky and constellations and other nonconsequential things.

John had noticed the man was walking straight now and no longer talked with a drunken slur. They had made it to a side street with benches that overlooked the river. He turned and looked at the man again, he really was good looking and impeccably dressed. “You’re not drunk are you?” he asked. The man pulled him over to the railing that kept people from falling down the embankment.

Sherlock turned and looked at the man. Oh, he was sharp, most people wouldn’t have noticed his slip back into a normal, sober, law abiding citizen. “No. I was in there for a case.”

“For a case? But you’re not a cop.”

It wasn’t a question, Sherlock gave the man extra points for that. “No. How did you guess?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You just don’t look the part I guess.”

“Ah. And you don’t look like a doctor or soldier.”

“Ex-soldier actually.”

“Course. If you were still serving in the Queen's Army I’m sure you wouldn't have been out tonight, and I wouldn't have had the good fortune of being saved by the most intriguing of men.”

John chuckled and looked over to see the man studying him. “Intriguing? What about you? How did you-”

“Know you were a doctor and soldier?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Simple really, you have the bearings of a soldier, once a soldier, always a soldier.”

“Ahh, and the doctor bit?”

“When you looked at my injury, you looked at it the way a doctor might objectively, and you had a gentle touch.”

“Impressive.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Must be a handy ability. Most people don’t really pay attention.”

Excitedly Sherlock turned fully to face the other man, placing a hand on his forearm. “Exactly! Oh, what I wouldn’t give for some help on my cases. By someone who sees and observes, or at the very least pays attention.”

John ignored the obvious bait. He couldn’t take the man up on his not so subtle offer. He worked at the surgery and his hours were never consistent. “I could be an alcoholic.” he offered.

The man smiled at him the way an adult might when they were humoring a kid. “Noo, there’s a history of alcoholism in your family, you would _never_ fall victim to that.”

Now John was really intrigued. “How in the hell could you possibly know that?” There was no way this complete stranger could have that sort of insight into his past simply by observing.

Sherlock stared at the other man, outwardly he gave a slight smile but inwardly he was panicked, had he gone too far? Had he scared him off, made him mad? “I must come clean, I have to admit I was watching you at the bar when the men who accosted me thought I was staring at them.”

John could feel his face go red. This gorgeous man, who could have his pick of anyone in the bar tonight had been staring at him? Wait- “Was _I_ your case?”

“Don’t be silly. No.”

“Then what do you staring at me in the bar have anything to do with knowing alcoholism runs in my family and all of that?”

John noticed that the man looked extremely nervous, he didn’t understand his reaction at all.

“I noticed when you ordered your drink the bartender offered you the two for one special, you declined and offered the second drink to the man sitting alone at the end of the bar. The guy waved to you like it was an old habit of yours. You paid for your drink right out and didn’t open a tab.”

“Okay.”

“The fact that you cut off the bartender before he could finish asking, and the fact that you offered it to a regular at the bar shows that you are very strict with your alcohol intake. That kind of discipline usually comes from seeing a loved one battle alcoholism.”

“Or I could just have to work in the morning but needed a night cap. Or maybe I fancied the man at the end of the bar.”

The man looked at him again as if John was saying something silly. “No.”

“No?”

“You didn’t fancy him, you didn’t spare him two glances.”

“Okay.”

“Well was I wrong?”

“You know bloody damn well you weren’t,” John said with a smile.

“Not really, sometimes I get things wrong. Your father.”

“Sorry?”

“It was your father who struggled with the alcoholism. And you entered the military to not only get away from but to try to prove yourself to him.”

John stared at the stranger. “Extraordinary. Although, my father didn’t struggle, not in the least, he embraced it. Mind if we talk about something else?”

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It’s quite all right. That was truly amazing.”

Sherlock shifted closer to the man. He was a good head taller than him, and he was also slimmer than him, but Sherlock felt the man complimented his own looks, they would make a handsome couple.

 

The man turned back to look out at the water and they stood and companionable silence. Sherlock was acutely aware of the fact that had he been standing here with anyone else, he would, in fact, be standing alone after their last exchange most people found him intolerable for even short periods of time. Sherlock was feeling bold, he liked this man and he wanted to see what it was like to share a moment with a person who genuinely liked who he was and who didn’t hold him in contempt.

Sherlock raised a hand and traced the man’s jawline, and when the man turned his hazel eyes on him, he went for it; Sherlock leaned down and brushed his lips gently across his, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

Sherlock really had to say he was surprised when the man lifted his own hand up and cradled his face, ever mindful of his injury. Sherlock leaned into the kiss more, parting his lips slightly.

 

John took full advantage of the other man parting his lips to take a breath. He placed his free hand on the small of the man’s back and deepened the kiss. John ran his tongue slowly just inside the man’s mouth, pulling back to nip at his bottom lip.

He’d never had someone as good looking as the man before show interest in him, it made John’s head reel. He shifted his hand from the man’s face to his curls, he had lovely, silky hair, it looked dark brown or black but when the light played in it John could see hints of red.

 

Sherlock stepped into the man, the man was an expert kisser, he kissed like no one’s business and Sherlock wanted the full experience, he wanted to touch every inch of the man before him and be touched by him. He thrust his hands into the man’s jacket, running his hands over his broad chest, he was firm beneath his fingertips. Sherlock moaned into the kiss, this was heaven.

When the other man moaned, it effectively snapped John out of his daze; what was he doing?

 

Sherlock saw the look of horror cross the other man’s face, he apologised quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally act in this manner.”

John ran a hand over his face, “Yeah, neither do I. I’m sorry too. Must be the alcohol.”

Sherlock frowned. “You didn’t have enough to inebriate your actions and I didn’t have any drinks.”

“You were surrounded by empty bottles and glasses.”

“Oh, that? I paid the bartender to set me up with the empty items before the bar opened. Look, I’m very sorry, I made the first move I shouldn’t have...I just wouldn’t have forgiven myself had I not. I-”

John started backing away the man. “Uh, I - I should be getting home.” John frantically turned on his heels and took off to find a cab. What had he been thinking? He didn’t even know the man's name. John found a cab, jumped in and gave his address. Looking at his watch he was surprised to see it had been almost 3 hours since they had left the bar.

Sherlock was dismayed to see the man hurry off in a panic. He wasn’t quite sure what the issue was, people hooked up every day. Oh! Unless...Sherlock made his way back to the street slowly. Maybe the man had been there simply for the drink, not the company, it was possible that maybe he wasn’t gay? Or maybe he had a significant other. Sherlock stuck a hand in his pocket pulling the other man’s wallet out. Opening it he saw that the man’s name was John Watson and he actually lived rather close to Sherlock, only a couple of blocks over. Sherlock absently ran his fingers over his lips as he stared down at John’s licence picture. He was very handsome, and Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about kissing him. Even if the man was strictly straight he had enjoyed and responded to his kiss.

 

Sherlock made his way back towards the bar he suppose he still had time to stake out the place, there was about another hour before closing and he could return tomorrow night to scope out the inside again. He had a killer to catch.

The next night Sherlock was leaned up in a corner watching the room pretending to be drunk when he walked in. John Watson. He watched with apprehension and excitement as John looked around the room and then upon sporting him started towards him.

“I thought I’d find you here, you having unfinished business and all.”

Sherlock wasn’t sure how he should act around the man. They had made out like a bunch of randy school kids and Sherlock had stolen his wallet. “What brings you here?” Sherlock said quietly, struggling to hold eye contact.

“My wallet. Please give it back to me.”

“What makes you think I have it, perhaps you dropped it.”

John smiled at the other man. “No. I’m never careless with my wallet. My only question is did you kiss me simply to relieve me of my wallet?”

Sherlock broke eye contact then, fishing inside his coat and pulling out John’s wallet. “Of course I didn’t kiss you to take your wallet. I took your wallet when I first bumped into you outside the bar.”

“Why? Did you think I was the person you were looking for? The person for your case?”

“Don’t be silly. You are neither homophobic or a killer.”

“So your guy is using this bar to target gay men and women and killing them?”

“Yes. Men. The women are a bit harder to pick up.”

“So, why did _you_ take my wallet?”

“I was curious,” Sherlock spoke so low John almost couldn’t hear him.

“Excuse me? What was that?”

Sherlock looked up to answer, his eyes went wide and he bolted past John.

 

John cursed under his breath and turned and chased after the man. Christ! He still didn’t even know the man’s name.

Outside John heard sounds of fighting going from the ally, rushing over to it he saw the dark haired beauty engaged in a fist fight. And although he was currently getting the snot beat out of him he apparently had held his own because the other man had a rapidly swelling eye and other facial contusions.

 On the ground away from the fight was a man of average looks, he was unconscious and lying in a pool of his own vomit. John rushed over to him checking for a pulse. Once he found one he turned and jumped into the fray, pulling the unknown man off of Sherlock and holding him immobile.

Heaving, trying to catch his breath Sherlock spoke up, “Thank you John...than-thank you.”

 

“Is this the guy? Is this him?” John asked, angrily shaking the man.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?” The alleged killer began to speak and both John and Sherlock yelled at him to shut up.

“The short version is- he fit the profile and I saw him lead that gentleman outside in a hurry.”

“That doesn’t make him a killer. What’s the longer version?”

“I suspect the killer grappled with his own sexuality and was targeting men who looked like him; in a sense, he was killing his own lust and desire for men.”

John glanced over his shoulder where the victim lay still. He and the guy in front of John did favor one another, the reasoning seemed as sound as when he’d told John about himself. John looked back over to the man whose name he had yet to learn, “Call the police.”

 

Sherlock wasted no time pulling out his phone and dialing Lestrade. “Get over to Twist and Shout right away. I have our guy. What?! Of course, I’m sure. Just get over here.” Sherlock hung up his phone and shoved it in his coat pocket roughly.

Sherlock approached the suspect. “What did you give him?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?”

“Thank you. You just admitted to giving our friend over there something. A little blood test will tell us what. I know it’s not a fatal dose of whatever you gave him because you like to choke your victims, get up close and personal as you watch the light leave their eyes.” The man struggled against John’s hold trying to get to Sherlock. Sherlock watched with a total lack of concern, he had complete faith in John Watson.

“What’s on your mind, John? You look like you want to say something.”

“You know my name, where I live and probably where I work. And all I know about you is that you are a freelance crime solver. Seems a bit unfair wouldn’t you think? At least tell me your name?”

Before Sherlock could answer someone called out, “Sherlock! Sherlock! Where are you, you bloody bastard?”

“Over here Lestrade.”

John looked at the man and smiled slightly, “Nice to meet you, Sherlock.”


End file.
